Retired
by spookisapuppy
Summary: This is like a future look at all of the Ranger's characters, as seen by Halt. To be honest, I don't know how to summarize this, so just read it, will ya?


_ Guess what? I finally got my charger cord! (insert happy dance of your choice) So all of my stories will be getting updated soon, A Farewell to Kings chief among them. I found this story while I was going through everything on my computer. I guess I was meaning to publish it. Anyway, this one is about... Halt being old. There's really no other way to put it. I wrote because I spend an inordinate amount of my time thinking about Halt. Generally, of course, I have to think about him being young, but this time I thought about him being old. So, hope you enjoy! :P_

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Abelard was old. There was no denying it. The hair around the horse's muzzle and eyes had gone gray. He moved a lot slower these days, and sometimes, a bit stiffly. The old Ranger horse spent most of his time these days grazing peacefully in the meadows that could be found around Castle Redmont. Or chomping on hay in the stables. And he ate as many apples as he wanted. After all, he was old, and Halt thought his horse deserved all those apples. Abelard had been the grim old Ranger's constant companion and friend for the better part of thirty years.

And so, now, Halt found himself slipping an apple from his coat pocket and waving it under Abelard's nose. The horse reached for it eagerly and gulped it down quickly. Then he nuzzled Halt's hand in gratitude. Halt returned the favor, scratching his little horse's ears and fondling his soft nose.

Halt gave Abelard one last pat then turned to leave with a promise to return soon. The Ranger stepped silently - a habit learned over a lifetime- out of the castle stables. As he strode through the courtyard of Castle Redmont Halt's thoughts were still straying to his horse. When he was honest with himself, Halt knew that Abelard would die one day. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too soon. But his horse was old, and Halt knew it. But if his horse was old, then the reverse was also true.

The black hairs on Halt's head had long ago surrendered to their gray counterparts, and now only a very few ebony survivors could be seen drowning in a sea of gray and white. Lines had sprung up on his face, and Halt was finally paying for all the frowning he'd done over the years. Not that he minded all that much. Halt never had cared much about his appearance. That was why, even now, he cut his own hair unless under other orders from his wife.

And speaking of his wife, there she was now. Halt had entered Castle Redmont now, and he watched the slender white clad figure sliding amongst all of the people jammed into the Great Hall.

Lady Pauline, head of the Diplomatic Corps at Redmont, and Halt's wife and longtime friend, had aged gracefully. Her formerly blonde hair had turned a stately shade of silver. She still moved with the bearing and grace of a queen. And even now, when he had known her for almost forty years, Halt found himself staring. He simply couldn't help it. To the old Ranger, the diplomat was the most beautiful woman on the planet. And the smartest too. And so he stared. Because Halt loved his wife.

More than that, he was _in love_ with his wife. Halt knew there was a difference. That was the reason that he was still amazed to be able to call Pauline his wife. To know that she belonged to him and he belonged to her. His twentieth wedding anniversary was fast approaching, but Halt woke up every morning feeling lucky to have Pauline.

He wondered briefly if sentimentality was a side effect of old age. Or maybe it was just because he had too much time on his hands.

Halt had retired a few years ago, upon Pauline's insistence. Or at least, that was his official reason. He certainly wasn't going to admit that he'd finally realized he was too old to be on active duty any longer. So he had exchanged his silver oakleaf for a gold one. He could leave the adventuring to Will. Halt stayed at Castle Redmont.

Most Rangers moved to Castle Araluen during their retirement, many helped Crowley deal with all of the paperwork that running the Ranger Corps entailed. Halt, however, had decided to stay in Redmont. Partially so that he and his wife could enjoy the company of a certain young Ranger and pretty Courier, partly because Halt felt no inclination to be sucked into the void of paperwork that had become Crowley's life.

And so he spent the days of his retirement traipsing around Redmont. It suited him fine. He had pretty much done just that back in his Ranger days. Except now he didn't wear a camouflage cloak. But he carried his bow. Always. Halt had made far too many enemies over the years to become careless in his old age. But he didn't wear his cloak. There were too many memories tied to that cloak. Missions, fights, injuries, extended stays in trees, fields, and barns. That wasn't Halt's life anymore. So he didn't wear his cloak.

One enjoyable part of his day, Halt reflected as he slipped unnoticed out of the Great Hall and to the stairway that would lead him to his apartment, were his grandchildren. Halt had long been convinced that his apprentices were the main reason that his hair had gone gray. With all of the trouble they'd caused him over the years, it was a reasonable theory. And so he quite readily assisted Will's children in their various schemes and plots. Alyss summed up their occasionally unruly behavior as childhood mischief. Will called it trouble. But Halt called it payback.

Upon reaching the correct hallway, Halt opened the door of his apartment and entered. He leant his longbow against the wall and hung up his quiver. Then he went to brew some coffee. If anything, Halt's coffee consumption had increased since retirement. Whenever possible he busied his hands with a steaming mug of the savory smelling gift of the gods.

Now then, what had he been thinking about? Ah, yes, Will's children. There was the younger boy, Paul- Alyss had named him after Pauline- who was a mirror image of Will. When Halt looked at that little boy his mind traveled back years into the past. To a time when he had dropped by the Ward of Castle Redmont to keep an eye on the son of the man who had saved his life. And later, the little boy had become his apprentice, and then, had turned into something a lot closer to a son.

And then there was the other boy, whom Will had named- of all things- Halt. He had mentioned that he planned to do this to his mentor before the boy was born. Halt had tried to talk his apprentice out of it, he really had, but Will had been adamant about it. He had said that he wanted to name his son after his father. And really, how was Halt supposed to argue with that?

So the child had been named Halt. But of course, some sort of nickname was necessary, as there certainly couldn't be two Halts running around. And since the Ranger had seniority, it was only fitting that they find something else to call the child. Halt was glad for that fact. That kid would have enough problems being a Ranger's son. He didn't need a ridiculous name as well. Alyss had actually thought up his nickname.

When the baby was born he'd had blue eyes but very dark hair, darker than Will's chocolate curls, it had been black. Alyss had joked that with his unruly, wispy locks, the baby had looked more like Halt than either of his parents. And as a joke she'd started calling him a junior Halt, a future Ranger from the start. The title had stuck, but they had shortened the phrase to J.H. And then, to just Jay. Of course, his dark hair had lightened once he'd gotten older. And now it matched Will's. Although, in her oldest son, Alyss' blue eyes had won out over Will's brown.

But both boys had inherited Will's penchant for mischief. And as Halt had thought earlier, he certainly didn't mind encouraging their rowdy streak. Quite gratifyingly, the old Ranger could already see a few premature gray hairs springing up on Will's head.

Ah... Yes, revenge was sweet. But quite possibly sweeter were the frosted cakes and baked fruit pies that Halt routinely found being delivered to his door. That cheerful Jenny Dalby -ahem- Mrs. Jennifer Matthews, the somewhat recently instated head chef of Castle Redmont, seemed to have a soft spot for the old Ranger and his sweet tooth. Which was only to be expected, Halt supposed, when one was the former master of the aforementioned chef's husband.

No one could deny that Gilan, though often away, was a loving and dedicated husband. He came to visit Jenny as often as was humanly possible, and when he couldn't visit, he wrote. That couple probably wrote more letters in a month than the diplomatic service did in a year. Well, maybe not quite that much. But close.

It was all due, of course, to Jenny's insistence on staying in Redmont. She could have moved to Whitby fief, where she would have no trouble finding work- Jenny's cooking skills had become almost legendary in Araluen- and where she could live with Gilan. And she had, for many years, until Master Chubb, Redmont's chef, had decided to retire. He had gone to Jenny personally and requested that she replace him. It was- he said- the only way he'd be able to step down in good conscious- knowing that he'd left his kitchens in skilled and capable hands. Jenny, of course, couldn't refuse her old mentor this wish, and, to be honest, becoming the head chef in Castle Redmont had been a dream of hers since childhood.

Halt certainly didn't mind. He sat down in his favorite chair, kicked his booted feet up on a table- a move that would have got him killed if Pauline was there- and sipped at his coffee while enjoying some honeyed sweet rolls. Jenny also seemed to know that he liked honey. Will was probably responsible for that.

His apprentice had made it his job to be sure that Halt was looked after. Of course, Halt was the last person that needed to be taken care of. But if Will thought his master needed sweet rolls, then who was Halt to argue? Besides, they certainly were delicious.

Footsteps. Halt's recognized the light tread long before Pauline reached the door. And so when she entered his feet were planted squarely on the floor, the remains of the sweetcake had quickly been consumed, and a pile of papers were occupying his hands. "Halt dear?" she called.

Halt looked up. "Yes?"

"I'll be late tonight. I've got to organize a mission to Gallica. And it just can't wait," she said apologetically. Halt nodded.

"That's alright. I can feed myself, you know."

She smiled. Halt was actually a better cook than Pauline, as cooking was a skill that wasn't often required of the diplomat. "Yes, I know." She stepped forward and leaned down to give Halt a quick kiss on the cheek, drawing one of the Ranger's rare smiles to his lips. "I'll see you tonight." Halt nodded. Pauline walked to the door then paused and turned back. "Oh, and Halt?" The Ranger rose one eybrow. "Don't eat anymore sweet cakes." And she whirled out the door before she could see Halt's jaw drop in shock.

He looked down at himself. Crumbs! Blasted crumbs, they always gave you away. He made a mental note to be neater when sneaking sweets in the future. He'd have to take a page out of Horace's book. The knight loved food. Halt had always marveled at Horace's ability to consume twice the food a normal person needed. Halt just couldn't seem to figure out where it all went. Not around his middle, that was for sure. Even now, with Horace in his thirties, he didn't have even the faintest hint of a belly.

Halt poked his own stomach. Nope. He'd gained some weight, sure, but that was only because he'd slacked off on physical activity a bit. Nothing to worry about. Halt rubbed his ribs a bit. Then he sprang up out of his chair. Maybe he'd go for a walk.

Halt hurried to backtrack the path he'd taken earlier, eventually exiting through the back of the castle, near the stables. He changed directions suddenly and swerved off into the stables. He would take Abelard as well. Halt didn't bother with Abelard's saddle, he left it behind. He could ride bareback.

Halt led Abelard out of the castle gates, nodding to various calls and greetings as he passed. Since his retirement had begun, and for several years leading up to it, Halt had noticed that the people of Castle Redmont had become a lot friendlier towards him. For the first time in his life, Halt found himself being greeted, not with suspicion, but with actual warmth from the townspeople. He suspected that this was due, in no small part, to his relationship with Will. Everyone liked the younger Ranger. Many in Redmont had known Will since he was a child. And anyone with eyes could see that Will thought of Halt as his father.

Halt didn't exactly enjoy the attention, but he knew he couldn't avoid it either. So he nodded to all of the greetings, but never stopped to join in any conversation. Once he had gotten out of the suffocatingly populated area around the castle, Halt jumped up on Abelard's back.

He leaned forward to look the little horse in the eye. "Think you got some more run in you boy?" Abelard huffed. _Of course I do. How old do you think I am?_ "Well alright then." Halt tapped his heels to Abelard's sides and the horse was off.

It was such a rare thing in a Ranger horse's life to run just for the joy of running. Unburdened by saddle or baggage, Abelard galloped off through the fields, neighing occasionally for no reason in particular. It was such a nice thing, Halt thought. That he could let his horse run and make noise without fear of danger. He'd never been able to do that when he was off on missions. And so for the next hour or so Halt allowed Abelard to decide on his own pace and direction. By the end of that hour the sun was sinking closer to the horizon and Halt turned the happy little horse back toward the castle.

Castle Redmont really was beautiful in the sunset. The massive stones seemed to glow red. It was a sight to behold. A sight Halt had seen hundreds of times in his life. But somehow, it never got old. The Ranger made it through the gates of the castle before they closed for the night.

He put Abelard back in the stables, brushed him down, and gave him another apple. Then Halt made his way back to his own room. The first thing Halt did upon returning to his apartment was start brewing more coffee. When the delicious drink was ready he spooned in some honey, just to make it perfect, and sat down in his chair. He put his feet up on the table and downed the mug of coffee in only a few long draughts. Ah... Now to relax.

Halt woke with a start. It was pitch black in the room, there was no moon to give light through the window, and Halt hadn't lit any candles before he'd fallen asleep. He watched the door with such intensity that one might have thought it was going to explode. And then it opened.

Pauline. Carrying a candle. That's right, she was supposed to get home late tonight. Well, it certainly was late. She made her way over to a small side table and lit a lamp. Then she noticed Halt for the first time. He was standing there, wearing the same clothes she'd seen him in this morning, watching her.

"Halt, did you wait up for me?"

"Uh, yes, something like that," he said sheepishly.

"That was sweet of you. Why don't you go to bed? I'll be there in a moment."

Halt nodded. He went into the bedroom and fell asleep once again.

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The next day Halt found himself alone in the apartment once more. These days Pauline was always much busier than he was. After all, being head of the Diplomatic Corps didn't necessarily entail going on missions. She could simply direct her couriers. Halt, on the other hand, could generally just spend the day at home.

He got out of bed and shuffled to the kitchen. Pauline had gotten up awfully early that morning, and Halt had gone back sleep after she'd left. After all, what difference would it make if he got an early start on the day? Nontheless, he'd still risen before the sun. Halt dug out his sack of coffee and set water on the stove to boil. Then he washed his face and hands in the small basin opposite the stove. He ran his fingers through his sleep mussed hair- this constituted combing in Halt's eyes. By then the water had begun boiling, and he poured in some of the coffee. Halt cracked his neck. Yep, another lovely day of retirement was ahead of him. Time to relax in order to make up for all the years he'd spent in constant action. Sleeping out on the ground, eating hard rations, fighting off all manor of enemies... Yep, retirement certainly had its perks. A soft bed every night chief among them.

Just as Halt poured himself a mug of the fresh, delicious smelling coffee, he heard a knock at the door. He looked out the window. It was still awfully early. That meant the visitor must be Will. That would also explain why Halt hadn't heard any footsteps before he heard the knock. Will's silent movement skills had really increased in the last ten years or so. Halt set down the mug and went to answer the door. As the wood swung away Halt saw, just as he'd predicted, Will framed in the doorway.

"Halt, I need to ask you a question," his former apprentice said abruptly. The old Ranger leaned against the door post and cocked an eyebrow. _Well_? Will took a deep breath then said, "How do you feel about coming out of retirement- temporarily? Crowley sent me a letter, I guess he didn't want to ask you himself, but there's a mission..." Will's voice faded off as Halt disappeared from the doorway. "Halt?" For a moment Will was worried that this was Halt's way of refusing the mission. After all, he was retired, and they really had no business asking him to go on missions. There were other Rangers, none so skilled as Halt, but there were others, who could accompany Will. Perhaps he should just write back to Crowley and tell him to find someone else. And he was turning to do just that when Halt reappeared.

The old Ranger had transformed in the minutes he'd been gone. A standard issue Ranger double scabbard containing two shining and well maintained knives was strapped to his belt, offset to hang at his left hip. A black quiver filled with two dozen razor sharp black shafted, gray feathered arrows hung at his back.

Golden oakleaf shining at his neck, Halt swung his old camouflage cloak around to drape across his shoulders. Snatching up the massive black longbow that had been leaning against the wall, Halt asked, "Where are we going?" After all, he thought, retirement was overrated.

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_ I love reviews. *hint, hint* :P_


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